


Until Our Marrows Mix

by ohshitdestiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe-Police, Alternate Universe-Serialkiller, Alternate Universe-Stalker, Canonical Character Death, Detective Dean Winchester, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Hurt, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Serialkiller Castiel, Stalker Castiel, Stockholm Syndrome, Thriller, Violence, dub con, emotional dependency
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-22
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2017-12-27 07:47:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/976260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohshitdestiel/pseuds/ohshitdestiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Detective Chief Inspector Dean Winchester is the best on his job in Lawrence. No, screw that, he is the best in all of Kansas and some areas around. He senses that something is off with the last series of killings before anyone else even considers assuming that this is anything else than the doing of their usual psychopathic serialkiller. The case seems unsovable but<br/>when the focus of the murders shifts Dean finds himself in the middle of a nightmare that digs its claws into him to pull him back into his past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> This is the realisation of an idea I had for quite a long time now. Before you start reading you should know that the realtionship between Balthazar and Cas is only mentioned. Destiel is going to be endgame but it isn't there right from the start, furthermoremore you won't get by-name-mentions of Cas until chapter 3, just so you know. (Also there are going to be mentions of Sam/Jess and Bobby/Ellen throughout the story)
> 
> The Title is inspired by the Song "The Horror of Our Love" by Ludo.

The crime scene was a mess. It was dirty, wet and dark, and everything Dean Winchester wanted to do was go home, crawl under his bed sheet and go back to sleep. There were forensics everywhere, searching for every little detail the murderer might have left in the dead lane. White signs were placed on the ground, marking the little pieces of evidence that hadn't been washed away by the pouring rain already. Flashlights lightened up the ground occasionally, providing Dean with a good view on the trickles of blood mixing with the puddles of water and colouring them red lightly. Dean was too exhausted to really process all the information flooding his brain, all he knew was that the killer had been violent.

The coroner arrived a few minutes later and only stopped at Dean's side for a few seconds. They nodded as a greeting, exchanged a short "Dean" and "Benny", too tired and too tense for anything else. It was the fourth body in two four months and the work this required of them was taking its toll. Dean gripped his coffee tighter, fingers digging into the paper cup and almost crumpling it. He ignored the rain pouring down on him and followed Benny Lafitte as he made his way over to the victim. Benny was his best man, not because he was an outstanding coroner -although he was- but because they could trust and understand each other without a lot of words. Benny was the kind of coroner that didn't just do his work and left the rest to the profilers and psychologist but who really thought about the bigger picture and in this case, this was needed more than anywhere else.

Three victims and they still hadn't got any clue who the murderer might be. They didn't even have a damn profile. There was nothing fitting into pattern besides the choice of location and the young woman sagged against the brick wall was probably not going to give them any more clues. The way she was killed was too different from anything they had seen before in this case. The only thing they would find if it was their guy would be a strand of hair cut off from the back of her head.

That had been what had made them suspicious when the first victim had been found. When they had found the second victim and had recognized the pattern, Dean had been given the lead over the special commission. There had been nothing linking the women besides that they had both found with some of their hair missing, bodies left in dead lanes. Their best shot until now was that the murderer was one of their good old psychopaths. Extremely dangerous, extremely violent and very likely to make a mistake pretty soon. Just because they hadn’t found useful evidence yet this didn’t mean that they wouldn’t in near future.

Benny kneeled down next to the body and placed his equipment next to him. Dean stood there, looked down at the scene and for the first time took the opportunity to really take in the image. The woman had been stabbed several times, blood all over the light, white summer dress she had been wearing. Her blonde hair looked like some kind of dirty and wet halo surrounding her head. She had probably been good looking but the expression of fear and pain distorted her face.

Benny started his first inspection and looked up to the Detective Inspector now and then while he dictated his observation into the microphone fixed at the collar of his shirt. This was another thing Dean liked about Benny. He was not only a professional, he was a perfectionist when it came to saving material. Dictating machines were only mandatory during a proper postmortem examination but he preferred to use them all the time, which made it definitely easier for everyone in the team when it came to securing and sorting out of evidence.

”The victim is a young woman, I estimate between 20 and 30 but we can’t be sure before autopsy or identification. Judging from the blood-pattern she got 5 stab wounds to her chest.” Benny’s deep voice was the only sound Dean could concentrate and reflect on. The rest blurred into a sidetrack sensation in the back of his mind, tapping and scattering and the sound of raindrops hitting the water of already formed puddles.

“I am pretty sure that she died directly of one of the stabs or otherwise there would be much more blood but again we have to wait for the autopsy to say anything with certainty. After all the rain might have washed away most of the mess.”

Dean zoned out, his attention drifted away as Benny estimated the time of death. He would be able to reread the examination reports tomorrow when he wasn’t that tired anymore and hopefully he would find important evidence this time. Striking similarities, same friends, just same something. Anything.

Dean felt as though something was off with the murders, something that he could not quite put his fingers on yet. The others in the commission didn’t share his bad feeling but they still respected it because Dean he had solved cases on the base of mere intuition before. Easier cases, to be honest, but still. His reputation preceded him which was why they had given him this case in the first place. Right now all he wanted to do was curse this reputation.

They were all still of the opinion that the murderer was a psychotic serial killer and there Dean was again, at the same point in his train of thoughts as a few moments ago. His thoughts were running in circles but he held on to this little bit of hope just like he physically held on to the cheap coffee in the wet paper cup. If the murderer was just a psychopath it meant that he was driven by madness, most likely mixed with fury and rage and that again meant that he would make mistakes sooner or later, that they would get enough evidence to catch him.

“Oh, thank God, finally” Benny exclaimed and pulled Dean back into reality.

“What?” Dean directly asked and when the coroner looked up at him, a crooked half-smile was painted on his face.

“She fought”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning she scratched the bastard. There is blood under her fingernails and presumably enough skin to get his DNS.”

Dean let out a sigh of relief, he was just too tired and maybe a bit too realistic to really be joyful about this revelation. It would only help them if the murderer had done something before his current activity that was bad enough to have his DNS registered. No matter how he wished for this to be the case, Dean highly doubted it. He took another sip from his coffee and pulled a face. The liquid had cooled down by now and even in a hot state it had rather been the opposite of delicious. Just one more reminder for Dean why he definitely preferred whiskey.

“Okay, good work, Benny.” Dean said before he turned around to face the street and the rest of the team again. “Good work, everyone. I know it’s late, finish here and then you can go home, we will do the rest tomorrow. Linus, you have the responsibility for a while, I am in my car if someone needs me. I just need a few minutes.”

Linus smiled at him, a facial expression Dean could hardly see through the darkness but he could damn well imagine how it would look like in light. Linus had this kind of smile that made other people smile with him without a second thought, always showing teeth a bit too big and oblique in a way that didn’t make braces necessary but still useful. They also made him look younger than his 27 years and so sympathetic that Dean had liked him immediately. He has also wanted to ruffle his dark-blond/light-brown (Dean was still not sure how to call it) hair which was… well, at least very unlikely for Dean. It might have been connected with the fact that he had been slightly drunk when he had met Linus for the first time. Dean still liked to tell himself that although he knew that it wasn’t quite true. Dean made his way to his ’67 Chevrolet Impala, his private car, and was welcomed by its warmth as he slipped into the driver’s seat. Of course it wasn’t really warm, not with the freezing temperature of a late fall night surrounding it. It was just less cold than outside. He downed the rest of his coffee in one go and decided that it still tasted disgusting. Most of the time he really liked his job but in situations like this he started to question his choice. He knew that these doubts would be forgotten after a sufficient amount of sleep, though.

Dean crumpled the paper cup in one hand and threw it onto the passenger seat. He would have killed anyone else to even attempt doing this but again, the exhaustion had caught him too deeply in its embrace for him to care. He leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes. The raindrops kept falling and made loud noises on the roof of the Impala. However, Dean found a way to ignore them. Soon a light sleep had gotten hold of him and he dozed off.

A knock against the car window woke him up again and after he had brought his sight back into focus, Dean could see Linus smiling a wry smile at him through the glass. After he had scrolled down the window, Dean found himself smiling back. Again.

“What do you need?” Dean asked with a voice that made him sound more tired than he had intended.

“I was wondering if you want to come home with me when we’re finished.” Linus looked down and scraped his feet.

“Wait a second” Dean said, opened the door and got out of the car. He was approximately two inches taller than Linus but Linus wasn’t looking at him anyways. It seemed as though the ground had suddenly become more appealing than Dean.

“I didn’t…I mean” Linus began to stutter. “Just…we don’t need to do anything if you don’t want to. I know that you are tired and that you want to keep this…us… a secret. I understand that. But I know that you have to drive quite far and I live pretty near so I thought you might like to stay over. It’s…”

“Linus” Dean interrupted him.

“Yes.”

“It’s fine. You don’t have to justify yourself. I will see you at your door.” He kept his voice and even his choice of words professional. Maybe everyone else was too far away to eavesdrop but Dean thought ‘better safe than sorry’. He placed his left hand on Linus’ shoulder in a firm but gentle grip. For anyone who would look at them it would seem like a reassuring gesture among colleagues. Except for how Dean let his thumb travel over Linus’ throat, which no-one could see.

“Okay.” Linus replied. “See you, then.” He turned away and went back to the others. Dean could swear to have seen a slight blush creep over the other police man’s cheeks.

 

Half an hour later the forensics, lead with passion and just the right amount of strictness by Pamela Barnes, started to pack their things. Benny finished and came over to Dean. He looked about as tired as Dean felt but the expression of enjoyed success lightened up his features. The only thing lightening up Dean’s mood was the expectation of a warm bed and a bit of groping under the sheets. Still he smiled at Benny as he said goodbye.

They wished each other a good night and the sparkle in Benny’s eyes seemed as though he knew exactly that Dean wasn’t going to sleep in his own bed this time. He probably did. They knew each other too well, were too good friends outside of their jobs, to really hide stuff like that from each other. He didn’t say anything regarding the topic, though, and Dean had no intention of telling him. Keep your flings a secret, that was the first rule. Homosexuality was reason enough to get kicked out of a job, especially in the police.  
No-one would care that he was bisexual to be precisely or that he preferred to separate work and personal life. No-one would care that this affair with Linus did in no way influence their professional relationship and behaviour or that it was all based on consent and that Linus wasn’t pressured into this. There were enough people in the department and beyond it who envied Dean for his reputation that it wouldn’t even matter that he was considered the best on his job in the whole of Kansas.

Benny clapped Dean on the shoulder and returned to supervising the transportation of the corpse before he got into his own car and followed the hearse. Dean knew that he had promised to be the one to attend the autopsy tomorrow but right now asking someone else to do it sounded more than tempting. He waited outside of his car in the slowly fading rain until everyone else had gone and he could see Linus get into his car. Dean slipped into the driver-seat of the Impala again and started the engine. He was wet to the bones and cold and he was definitely going to ask Linus for a hot shower, preferably with Linus in it as well.

 

Dean pulled into the free parking lot behind Linus’ car. Linus had been right, the fifteen minute drive to his house had really been less stressful than the almost 90 minutes drive out of town to Dean’s. Linus’ place was decent, you couldn’t say anything bad about it, but compared to Dean’s house it seemed mundane. Dean was not one to judge others for having less money than him especially because he knew what it meant to be poor. His childhood hadn’t been the best after all.

Dean climbed out of the Impala and locked it just to be greeted by Linus who wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist and pressed an affectionate kiss to the underside of his jaw.

“Thanks for coming over” Linus mumbled into Dean’s skin. Dean looked down at him and smiled.

“I don’t want to spend the night alone, either. But let’s get inside first, what do you say?”

“Yeah, good idea” Linus said under his breath.

This felt…different. It was different. They had never done something like this before, go home without the direct intention of sex lingering in the air between them. It felt good and allowing himself this kind of luxury was something Dean hadn’t done in a very long time.

The moment they were inside they started stripping off their wet clothes until they were wearing nothing more than their boxers. Dean could see goose bumps spreading over Linus’ skin and knew that his own must look the same. He couldn’t help himself but smiled at how almost vulnerable Linus looked and the thought crossed his mind that he should be thankful that he was let into someone else’s life like this, even if they weren’t together. Not really.

“We should hang up our clothes to dry and then take a shower. Together” Linus stated, stealing the opportunity to once initiate something in this direction from Dean. It also took the rather practical and therefore oddly intimate action of getting out of their clothes back onto a sexual level which was comforting in a way he didn’t fully comprehend.  
“You’re speaking my mind” He just replied, shooting one of his infamous smiles at Linus that had just the same effect on him as on everyone else who was attracted to men. Linus practically melted under it.

They took their time under the shower, washing each other, bodies pressed close and open kisses mouthed against the other one’s skin. Their movements were lazy and slow, both too exhausted from fulfilling their duty at such late hours. However, the touches still felt amazing, even if they were both too tired to really get turned on from them, not to speak of actually getting hard. Being together like that was relaxing and gave them an opportunity to shut down everything that was going on in their lives and at work. The hot water poured over their bodies and washed away tension and bitterness alongside with sweat and cold.

Dean knew that having an affair with a colleague, someone in a subordinate position even, was risky business and he probably would have never acted on his attraction to Linus if it hadn’t been him to make the first move and initiate it all.

After showering they fell into Linus’ queen-sized bed, Dean spooning Linus’ naked body with his own, limps entangled and fingers intertwined. Everyone to look at them would be given the impression of a happy couple when in reality they were hardly more than friends with Benefit. Dean had thought about this a lot and decided that it was better if it stayed that way. He wasn’t even sure if he was ready for a new relationship yet but it was nice to know that he had a person to turn to when his nights got too lonely and his bed too empty with only one person in it.

Dean’s breath evened out quickly and sleep got hold of him faster than he was used to. Linus lay awake for much longer and pressed a kiss to Dean’s cheek before he pulled the bed sheets completely over them and snuggled closer against Dean’s bare chest.

 

The next morning Dean woke up to the smell of fresh coffee and scrambled eggs lingering in the air. He practically fought himself out of the bed and yawned. Then he walked over to the other side of the room. He rubbed a hand through his hair, his eyes were still half closed as he picked one of his boxer-briefs out of Linus’ wardrobe. Staying overnight like this hadn’t been a first time for them after all and they were both prepared for the respectively other to still be there the next morning.  
Dean followed the scent into the kitchen as though it was a siren call and somehow it seemed appropriate to him to describe the scent of coffee –good coffee- in the morning this way. Speaking about morning, how late was it, anyway?

Linus was there, standing in front of the stove, eyes fixed on the pan that was the source of at least half of the smell that had motivated Dean to get out of the bed. When he noticed Dean, he turned around with a bright smile. God, his smile.

“Surprise!” Linus laughed and made w wide gesture pointing at the table that was set for two.

“Wow” Dean mumbled, genuinely surprised and strangely moved. He felt a dull pressure on his chest and he knew exactly where it came from but he repressed the memories and shoved them back into the subconscious. There was no way he would let his past darken this rare situation of pure happiness.

Linus pulled the pan from the stove and put the scrambled eggs onto two plates. Dean sat down and watched him, admired the play of his muscles and how the low sitting jeans hugged Linus’ hips and led the focus onto the small curve of his ass. Linus really wasn’t the type you would call handsome or hot at first time but Dean still enjoyed looking at him. A lot.

“What time is it?” Dean asked with a yawn and rubbed a hand over his eyes, trying to chase the tiredness away. It felt amazing to be able to let his guards down like this even in the presence of another person. Right now he was just himself, no mask to wear and no game to play. There weren’t even any expectations to meet because Linus took Dean the way he could get him.

“It’s 10 o’clock, you have to be at the autopsy in two hours. Coroner Lafitte called to tell you that he has to do it earlier in order to not blow up his schedule.”  
“You answered my phone?”

“I’m not stupid: He spoke onto your mailbox.”

“Never check my phone again.”

“Why? It’s not like I’m going through your messages or something, I just saw his number and thought it might be important.”

“Just don’t.”

“Okay, I’m sorry”

“Don’t be. It’s fine”

Linus finally sat down across of Dean. His smile had turned shy and the only reconciling gesture Dean offered was pouring coffee into Linus’ cup first.

They ate in silence, the atmosphere between them despite the discussion relaxed. Maybe Dean tried a bit too hard to keep it this way but Linus didn’t notice it. Dean knew that it wasn’t Linus fault, that he had only wanted to help him but Dean couldn’t help the bad feeling gnawing at his guts. Linus looked over to Dean again and again. He tried to ignore it, too afraid of what he might find in Linus’ eyes to meet them. The last night had kind of been a huge step forward and Dean was not quite sure if he was completely comfortable with that.

After they had finished breakfast Dean got dressed, trying to smooth out the wrinkles in his shirt as well as possible. He buttoned his jacket in an attempt to hide the fact that he hadn’t spent the night at home and checked himself in the mirror. Good enough. He looked tired but this was nothing to make others curious, they would all know sooner or later that he had been the one to supervise the investigations about a new victim. If they hadn’t heard it already, Dean would have to tell them.

When he left Linus, Dean noticed an odd expression on the other man’s face and in another situation e probably would have recognized it for what it was. This way he wondered about it for about half a minute and then forgot it as he drove the Impala to the police department, Metallica’s "Holier Than Thou” blasting out of the speakers.

 

Over the next week, tension ate at Dean’s nerves and he tried his best not to shove his mood into his colleagues’ faces, figuratively. The autopsy had at least given them material to work with but it was still in the lab for analysis and Dean was close to calling them and tell them to give their samples priority although he knew that they already had and that the laboratory’s schedule was even tighter than Benny’s. He wasn’t used to navigating in the dark like this and everyone around him senses how it affected Dean’s self-esteem and made him angry. Not even Linus dared to come too close. However, Dean was positive that a nigh or maybe even just a quickie in the bathroom with Linus would release at least some of the tension.

Maybe it was better this way, though, because it forced Dean to fully focus on his work in order to not get depressed over their lack of progress.

 

Later that day the lab results came as a much needed relief, or at least it seemed like it at first.

“Son of a bitch” Dean cursed after reading the file and threw the thin folder onto the nearest desk. The two police-men who were bent over a map of Lawrence and tried to once again find any kind of pattern looked up. Meg jumped a bit and came over.

Meg Masters was a brunette woman in her late twenties and easily worth two men when it came to being determined, robust and efficient. Dean didn’t really like her personally but was still glad to have her on his team. She was the one to do most of the interrogations with a success many of her male colleagues and rivals envied her for.  
“No luck?” She asked as she stepped closer, her hair swaying with every move.

“Well, we have the DNS.”

“But?”

"But it doesn’t match any of those in the database.”

Dean ran a hand over his mouth clenched his teeth and closed his eyes for a few seconds. Meg stayed silent. They both knew what that meant. Whoever was the murderer, he was either new to criminality on this level or a damn professional who knew how to stay away from the police and never leave enough evidence to get caught. People with violent tendencies often were noticed by the police before they actually killed someone and then left DNS-material everywhere, making it easy to find out who they were. Having no clue whatsoever to who the killer might be was a situation no-one at the police usually had to face on an every-day basis, which pretty much made this a complicated situation for all of them.

Dean felt a bad feeling creep up in his stomach and suddenly he felt sick. He still didn’t say anything, there was no reason to alarm people as long as it was just his intuition telling him to be careful.

“So, what do we do?” Meg asked and Dean could hear how much she hated the idea of having to wait for Dean to make decisions. Dean on the other hand liked it. Very much.  
“Now we have to wait again” He breathed out heavily and internally braced himself for another abortive team meeting.

 

Two more weeks passed by without major incidents. They had finally gotten results for all of the samples Benny had sent to the laboratory but everything they had found out was that the guy had apparently used a common kitchen knife to kill the young woman, nothing to get them any closer to solving this goddamn case.

Dean felt restless even in his own house but being at the department where anyone could see how his walls were wearing thin wasn’t an option. When he was honest to himself he felt helpless and even a bit lost. He needed someone to talk to about this, needed someone to hold on. Dean knew all of those things but admitting it was still something he wasn’t even close to. Admitting it would mean tearing at old wounds that still weren’t fully healed. However, he had survived the last three years, he could go on for longer.

He sat on the table in the dining room, one of the luxuries of a house that had in fact had been too big in the first place, even for two people. The hallway alone was huge, giving access to stairs that lead up to the bedroom with its king-sized bed and a nowadays only half-filled closet. Bathroom and Dean’s home-office were located on the second floor as well. Dean hardly used the latter, though, since there was no-one to be at home for. Not anymore.

The phone rang, pulling Dean out of his thoughts and back into reality. It took him a few seconds to recognize the noise as the ringtone of his cell. It wasn’t even late afternoon and he expected a call from Benny, anyways. It was probably work-related and Dean therefore didn’t check the caller-ID before answering.

“Dean Winchester here” He accepted the call and was more than just a bit surprised to not be greeted by the deep and strangely melodious voice of the coroner.  
“Hey Dean, it’ Linus.” Linus sounded hectic, almost frantic and Dean wondered what had happened.

“Hey Linus, I wanted to call you anyways. Is something wrong?”

“They found another victim.”

Dean felt like something heavy had just fallen into his stomach. “Where?”

“Doesn’t matter. She was still alive when they found her. She is in hospital now. The doctors say she can be asked a few questions if we do it gently. “

“Great” Dean replied, his voice mixture of hopeful and bitter. He really wasn’t sure how to feel about this. On the one hand whatever the woman might have to say could give them the first real hint to the killer’s identity. On the other hand Linus hadn’t said that she was over the worst which could only mean that she wasn’t and that again led to the possibility of another young and very dead woman to add to the cases folders.

“Where do you need me to be and when?” Dean asked, already starting to get ready for leaving.

“I don’t think you should come.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s Jo.”


	2. II

Jo Harvelle had a special place in Dean’s heart since they had met for the first time, not primarily because she had hit him in the face on that occasion but it definitely contributed to the deep feeling of respect that took hold of Dean every time he saw Jo. The girl that lay in the hospital bed, connected with tubes to different machines Dean had seen too often in his career, showed almost no resemblance to the beautiful, attractive and strong woman Dean knew. She looked so young, at least five years younger than she actually was, and helpless. She was pale due to the blood loss and her blonde hair seemed blunt, lacking of all of the shimmer that had made it look like gold when the light was right. Only the sight of Jo’s mother Ellen sitting next to the headrest and violently trying to hold back tears made it impossible for Dean to pretend that this wasn’t Jo, couldn’t be Jo, that there had been a mistake and that if he called Jo’s number right now she would answer the call with her typically happy sounding voice, laughing and turning down every single one of Dean’s mocking attempts to ask her out on a date.

Ellen was a resolute woman in her late forties and Dean liked her just as much as Jo. Seeing her like this tugged at his heart and made his chest hurt. Dean knew that it was a bad idea to be here but he wouldn’t let anyone else do the interview with her, not in the condition she was in. He lingered in the doorway and looked at the scene. He didn’t want to disturb. Jo was sleeping at the moment and Dean was not going to wake her up. He would just wait.

 

The three of them, Dean, Ellen and Jo, had met years ago. Almost nine complete years ago to be precisely. Dean had been assigned to a case back then, had been with the police for only a few months. Needless to say that he had just been some guy, ordered to do the work no-one else would want to do. So he had ended up taking care of Ellen and Jo who both had affirmed him that they didn’t need a guardian. On that occasion Ellen had gotten a rifle from behind the bar, leaving the 23-year-old Dean startled and impressed.

Dean had tried to not get distracted by Jo, swaying her hips unconsciously with every step she took through the bar. Not even to his own surprise, Dean had failed gloriously.  
Ellen and Jo had both seemed completely unimpressed by the fact that a dangerous drug-dealer was suspected of being anything else than happy that they had prevented him from getting a lot of money by throwing him out of their bar before he could sign the deal. Bad for him, good for the local police who had searched for him for quite a while before that incident.

Dean had never been self-conscious in situations like this but their behaviour had been intimidating. Not intimidating enough to hit on Jo while his colleagues had been somewhere else trying to catch said drug-dealer red-handed. Jo’s reaction had been planting her fist in Dean’s face with enough force to leave a bruise. Nothing else had happened that night, neither for the better nor the worse and they had been friends ever since. Dean had visited their bar frequently, had brought his girl- and boyfriends and even had taken Linus with him once and again in the last year.

They had become like a family and The Roadhouse a second home. Dean still could remember that one day where he had taken his adoptive father Bobby Singer to the Roadhouse just to find out that he and Ellen apparently had been a thing back in school. The world was small sometimes. After that, they had spent even more time with each other, since Ellen had started to visit Bobby’s house more often, sometimes bringing Jo along.

 

“Hey Dean-o, are you going to stay there forever and stare at nothing or are you going to come over and give the love of your life a kiss?” Jo’s voice was hardly recognizable and when Dean looked up he saw her propped against the headrest. Ellen had probably helped her sit up when she had woken up. It didn’t help to make her any more alive. A pain feeling like a tight fist around his heart clenched in his chest at her choice of words although it had less to do than Jo and more to do with…no, he was so totally not going there, not now.

Jo smirked and winked at him and a small smile spread over Dean’s lips. If there was one thing he liked about Jo it was her talent to not get desperate or depressed in complicated and apparently unsolvable situations. Ellen took one of Jo’s weak hands into her own and squeezed it lightly. Then she stood up and walked over to Dean.  
“I will let you two alone. Just tell me when you’re finished and Dean… I know that you want to catch that guy and hell, I want that, too. But be careful, Jo…” Ellen swallowed and ran a hand through her hair. “It still isn’t certain whether she will get through this or not.”

Dean could see how hard it was for Ellen to even say that, to admit that there was not a lot of hope that her daughter would survive what she is going through.  
“Yes, ma’am” Dean replied in all sincerity and Ellen smiled at him fondly. She patted him on the back as she turned away and left the room. Dean watched her go and noticed that she was swaying on her feet. She probably hadn’t slept or eaten anything since she had heard about Jo. Dean couldn’t judge her, he hadn’t even been able to drink his daily morning-coffee either.

“Hey Jo” He said, stepping closer to the hospital bed. He was shaking lightly but he responded Jo’s wry smile. “I guess you know why I am here.”

“Yeah, I’m really happy to see you, too” Jo joked. It did nothing to ease the tension in Dean’s back, though.

“I’m sorry but can we please keep this on a professional level? I’m not even supposed to be here, they just let me go because I threatened to throw a fit if they let Officer Masters take the interview.”

“Is she that bad?”

“No.” Dean shook his head lightly. “She’s good. She’s better than me, actually, but don’t let her know that I said that.”

“Then why didn’t you want her to ask me all the important questions?”

“Because she can be reckless and mean and you’re…” Dean made a vague gesture waving his hand along Jo’s body, leaving the ‘dying’ unsaid but still lingering between them. He sat down on the chair Ellen had sat on before and rubbed a hand over his face. Jo turned her face slowly to the side to face him. There was still the faint hint of a smile on her lips, but her expression was earnest.

“Charity-Dean” She chuckled.

“Jo, please.”

“Yeah, you’re right. So, what do we start with?”

“First I have to ask you if you mind me recording our conversation.” Dean replied, pulling a small dictating machine out of the pocket of his leather jacket.  
“Of course” Jo agreed and Dean placed the recorder on the mattress next to her.

“Please state your full name, date of birth and age.”

“My name is Joanna Beth Harvelle, I was born on the April 7th 1985 and I am 28 years old.”

“You have been attacked yesterday on the night of the 25th October 2013, right?”

“Yes” Jo confirmed and her voice was already wearing thin. They shared a look and Dean had to swallow hard in order to keep his voice from trembling.

“Can you try to describe as exactly as possible what has happened?”

“I was on my way back to The Roadhouse from bringing a friend of mine to her apartment in Massachusetts Street. You know the area. It’s in no way threatening or dangerous. I walked past the school, for God’s sake. So, I was making my way back…it must have been between 10 pm and 12 am.” Jo coughed. She tried to raise a hand to wipe away a lock of blond hair that had fallen into her face. Dean leaned forward and did it for her. When his fingertips brushed the skin on her forehead the cold sent a shiver through his body.  
“So I didn’t get suspicious when that guy walked up to me and asked me for the time. It was dark already, I couldn’t really see his face but he was oddly familiar so I thought maybe I had seen him around at The Roadhouse, you know?”

Dean nodded and looked at Jo sympathetically. He could see that she was struggling to speak and that it probably even caused her physical pain. But he also could see the determination in her face and he had learned not to mess around with her when she displayed this kind of facial expression.

Dean cleared his throat and looked everywhere but into Jo’s eyes.

“I don’t really remember what happened afterwards. He must’ve knocked me out” Jo continued. “The next thing I remember is that he had me tied up and gagged…”  
“Wait” Dean interrupted Jo and this once he was able to shove the image that would have send him raging away to the back of his mind. “What?” They hadn’t known that before. When she had been found, Jo certainly hadn’t been either tied up or gagged. The only thing that had confirmed that she was a victim of the man they were chasing was the fact that he had cut off a huge strand of hair at the back of her head.

“Don’t make me repeat it.”

“Okay. I’m sorry, keep going.” Dean clenched his jaw and tried to prepare himself for what was going to come next and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear it.

“I can’t really remember, it was all a blur. Next thing I know is this pain in my side…just so much pain. Dean, I think he wanted me to be found. I know a thing or two about how to hurt a person and this was not an attempt to kill me directly…and he, he talked to me, Dean.”

“What did he say?”

Jo opened her mouth. When she made eye contact with Dean again, she looked frantic and horrified.

“I…I can’t. I really want to but I can’t”

“It’s okay, Jo, it’s okay. It doesn’t matter.”

“I…”

“No, Jo. You have helped enough already. You need to rest.” Dean knew that they most likely didn’t have the time to get Jo to talk about what her attacker had said to her. He knew that she was probably traumatized. No, not probably. She was. Dean was just glad he hadn’t let Meg do the interrogation.

“I’m glad I at least could do something.”

“You were great” Dean promised as he stopped the recording and stood up. “Do you think you can give a good enough description for someone to come in tomorrow and make a facial composite?”

“Yeah” Jo breathed out.

Dean leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss onto her forehead. When he pulled away he felt her cold hand wrap around his wrist and he looked up to meet her gaze. She was still smiling and Dean couldn’t help himself but admire her even more.

“You know” She began with a weak voice. “When you brought Linus to The Roadhouse a week ago…he was right about one thing.”

“What?” Dean asked and forced a comforting smirk onto his lips. “Your massive crush in me?”

“Shut up” It had been meant to be a joke but Jo was blushing and looking away and shit, Dean knew just too well how to interpret these signs. He only restrained from biting his lips uncomfortably with the little rest of control he had and when Jo continued talking it was all he could do not to break down right in front of her. “He said that you’re an amazing human being and if there is anyone out there who can fight evil in the world with all his heart without ever giving up, it’s you. You can catch this guy. I believe in you.”  
Jo’s grip on Dean’s wrist increased and Dean squirmed out of it just to intertwine their fingers. “Just promise me you’ll get better” He whispered against Jo’s skin before he pressed his mouth against hers in a rush of affection. The touch of lips against lips was soft and affectionate, there was nothing sexual about it and when Dean pulled away, Jo smiled at him warily.

“Now go and get my mom in before I start crying and make this into a scene right out of a soppy movie.” Jo huffed and Dean shook his head. The emotions inside of him were tearing him apart but he would be damned if he showed Jo that. He had to be strong for her, at least to keep up the illusion that there was hope. Somewhere deep inside of him he needed this illusion, too.

Dean stepped away completely and managed to smile at her. “See you later” He said as he turned away, deciding that a quick goodbye would be easier than just keep staying here awkwardly with no clue what to say. He cleared his throat and walked out of the room without looking back. He didn’t need to see Jo so helpless and almost lifeless again. He closed the door behind him just in time to miss the soft “No, you won’t” that Jo replied with.

 

Returning to the department this day felt like giving up Jo, like accepting that she was going to die. It wasn’t made better by the way everyone stared at him the moment he walked through the door after ending his call with Pamela. For a few seconds Dean considered locking himself in his office but then decided that it was better to search the direct confrontation. He already knew what he would have to face and he mentally prepared for it. Dean shot a warning glare at everyone in the room that functioned as his team’s operating centre. Meg broke the silence shortly before it would have started to kill Dean.

“I’m gonna say it when nobody else does. We all know that you legally have to retreat from this case.”

“I don’t…” Dean started, already feeling anger rushing through his veins, but Meg interrupted him harshly.

“Just listen to me. What I am saying is that we all know this. This doesn’t mean that we’re happy with it, okay? You know I don’t really like you but even I want to do my best job with this case and we all know that we can only pull that off with you leading us. We’re standing behind you here. You’re a professional and I sure as hell don’t want MacLeod as the new DSI for this team.”

A few people laughed warily and even Dean had to smile. Everyone knew that Crowley MacLeod and Meg Masters hated each other with not much rationality left, which was why there were always efforts not to have them work together. Ever.

“Thank you” Dean pressed out and his voice sounded rough and overused. He scanned the room again and caught Linus’ eyes. The younger man seemed so concerned and even a little bit scared that it threatened to break Dean’s heart. But there was nothing he could do about it besides giving him a small smile. It was meant to be encouraging. Dean, however, was almost certain that is completely missed its purpose since they still had to keep down the intensity of their gazes when the others were around.

Dean knew that Linus liked Jo and the pain over her situation was written all over his face. Dean sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes, shutting down all the emotions as he clenched his teeth. His jaw twitched as he braced himself for another day of keeping his walls up.

“Okay” He said into the newly rising silence of the room. “I want you to run the full procedure on this. Treat it as if it was a murder. Pamela and her team should be finished any minute now and then she will personally take care of the examination of everything they’ve found. We will get a facial composite of the attacker tomorrow. Meg, you come with me and go through my conversation with Jo…Miss Harvelle…once more.” He took a deep breath. “And Linus, I need you and Ash to set up a phone number that people who witnessed something can call. I think that’s it for the moment.”

They all nodded and Linus walked up to Dean before anyone else could. Meg stayed back, giving Linus a quick look-over with furrowed brows. There was a hot wave of fear braking down over Dean as he noticed Meg’s staring. Did she suspect something? He prayed to God that she didn’t.

“Are you alright?” He asked Linus quietly enough so no-one else could hear.

“Yeah…” Linus said but his voice broke on that single word already and he had to clear his throat. “Yes, I’m…okay. Just…take me home with you tonight?”

Dean looked down at him, long and intense, before he turned away with a subtle nod. Meg raised an eyebrow at them as they parted and Dean shot her a warning glare.

Dean and Meg sat across each other at the table in Dean’s office, the recording device placed on the hard wood between them. They were listening to Jo’s He talked to me for what felt like the hundredth time now. She sounded so terrified and Dean’s jaw clenched. Meg looked at him with a concerned expression that Dean didn’t like. At all.

“I’m sorry” She began. Dean glared at her but Meg didn’t let that stop her. She wouldn’t have been Meg if she had anyways. “We need to know what he said.”

“I can’t go back in there” Dean replied and it was the closest he ever got to telling Meg anything about his feelings but after she had so openly stated her support for him he felt like it was the least he could do.

“I know” She said and there was more understanding in her voice than Dean would have ever estimated her to have. “I’ll send someone there in a few days after the composite is made. A professional. I don’t want any police psychologist near that woman. Everyone here is far too involved with that case.” She was telling the truth and Dean nodded. He felt helpless and was just thankful that Meg was picking up on it and basically taking the lead here. He would never admit that, of course.

“Okay” Meg said after a few minutes in which neither of them had said or done anything. “I will go and see if I can help Linus with the set up or the sorting out.”

Dean watched her leave and side when she had closed the door behind her. He buried his face in his hands and felt the beginning of a dull headache creep up at the back of his neck. Everything had changed so fast and all Dean wanted to do was go home. Of course he couldn’t, not with his team currently working their asses off to get anything useful out of the new material they had.

He bent over a bit and opened one of the drawers of his desk. He took out the file-copies he had of the cases and put them on the table in front of him. With another sigh he grabbed a pen out of the mug he used as a pencil holder and flipped the first file open. He just had to do something even if that meant reading the same reports he had read over and over again. He could just hope that talking with Jo would give him a few ideas about how the murders might be connected. If Jo had known her attacker then maybe the other victims had, too. But how was that possible if the victims themselves had no connections whatsoever between each other? What was he missing?

 

He must have sat like this for hours. He had gone to every file that they had, through every little report of specialists and witnesses like. His back hurt and his head felt like someone was pounding against it from the inside. He couldn’t even completely remember all the things he had noted down but when he looked at the paper in front of him, he could see circles, arrows and symbols along a few notes scribbled to the sides.

He worked liked that sometimes, completely focused on the task and then he would have to revise his work once again to really get everything into the conscious part of his mind. Most of the time he just made connections and notes following his intuition anyways, and they had to be alternated again and again as the case proceeded.

An awkward cough pulled Dean back into reality and when he looked up he saw Linus hovering in the doorway. Dean sighed and tries to smooth out the worried lines on his forehead with his index finger and his thumb. It just made his headache worse. He looked over to Linus, straightened his shoulders and regained his composure in less than a second.

“What is it?” He asked with a huff.

“We…uhm…” Linus began hesitantly. “We have someone on the phone but he refuses to talk to anyone but you. He says it’s about the case. You should better come.”

Dean was up on his feet faster than his body could catch up with and he felt his blood pressure drop low. He swayed on his feet and Linus made a step forward to support him but Dean directly raised a hand to wave him off.

“I’m fine.” He insisted and once he had caught himself completely he followed Linus out of the room. If this was a witness who might have seriously seen something, this could be their first big breakthrough in that case but the euphoria that should have been flooding his veins by now, didn't really get through to him. He was just so tired and worn out. One of his best friends was in hospital and Dean had already given up hope that she would ever get out. He had seen her and he knew Jo. She always found a way to get out of a situation. However, that girl he had seen lying in the hospital bed, that hadn't looked liked Jo anymore. She had looked like a copy of herself and Dean just couldn't deal with that. He didn't want to have to deal with that.

Back in the main room, Dean was confronted by hopeful and weary faces alike. Meg was glaring at him with raised eyebrows and an expectant expression on his face, phone in her hand. Garth Fitzgerald wore his usual, slightly stupid looking grin. "That could be something, right?" He asked. He sounded too excited for Dean's liking but it was his first real case and Dean couldn't call him out on that. He was doing a good job, especially when it came to research. Dean wouldn't admit it to anyone, not even to himself really, but he was really glad to have him on the team. He was motivated and they needed the fresh blood.

"Okay, give me the phone" Dean said and Meg handed it over. Dean pressed the loud speaker button and signaled everyone to be silent by holding a finger up to his lips.  
"Dean Winchester here, who am I speaking with?"

"Dean" Came the direct respond, the voice at the other end of the line sounded almost cheerful and to say Dean was surprised would have been an understatement. He looked around into the faces of his colleagues just to be met with the same cluelessness that he was feeling.

"Did you enjoy my present? Oh, I'm sure you didn't, but that wasn't quite the point anyways. You know, for a second I was convinced poor Jo would invite me over..." Dean's heart stopped as he realized what the guy had just said. And then it hit him that he knew him. He knew him, he just couldn't get a hold on it. Garth's face had dropped and Linus stared at Dean with a horrified look in his eyes. Dean made a few frantic gestures with his free hand, signing his team to get the signal-tracker and the recorder going.  
'I know that voice' He mouthed to his colleagues, his hand covering the phone‘s microphone. He could feel a painful lump forming in his throat that made it almost unable for him to get out any kind of sound but he knew that he needed to keep the guy talking.

"I am sorry, am I supposed to know you?"

"I am hurt" The guy said deadpan and despite the lack of emotion Dean could almost feel his disappointment. Adrenaline was rushing through Dean's vein causing the terror that clawed at the border of his consciousness to be held back just for a little while longer.

"So I should know you. Mind to enlighten me?" There was a low chuckle on the other end of the line, deep in the other man's throat, and it got under Dean's skin in a way it really shouldn't. It seemed so familiar and unnervingly strange to him at the same time.

"Oh, that wouldn't be any fun. Besides that, it isn't part of the game. This is a puzzle, Dean, a puzzle with a magnificent amount of pieces and you won't be able to solve it until you remember everything.”

Dean needed all his self-control to keep his breath steady and when he looked to Garth who was fidgeting with the keyboard of his laptop to track the signal down, he gestured to Dean that he still needed time.

“Why would you want me to figure out who you are?”

“When you find out…If you find out, you will know and Dean? Do you really think I don’t know that you are trying to track the signal of my phone down? You should know better than assuming I am that stupid. In fact, you should know ME better.”

“Wait” Dean exclaimed but the connection was dead. The free line signal of the phone had never hurt his ears more than it did in that moment.

“Fuck.” He cursed and slammed the phone back onto the table. “Fuck.” He ran a hand over his face and just wished himself away. His whole body was trembling and his breath hitched as he tried to calm himself down.

“Dean?” That was Linus, voice concerned and frightened.

“Leave me alone” Dean snapped. He could have fired a gun and it wouldn’t have been more effective in silencing the whole room. Everyone just stared at him, Dean could feel their eyes burn against his skin. “All of you leave me alone, I don’t anyone near my office for the next 30 minutes.” His voice was rough and commanding.

He drew another deep breath before turning around and practically storming back into his office. He slammed the door behind him, his breath hitched again. What was going on? Why was this happening to him? He was just so drained and worn out; he couldn’t even come up with one single name or at least something remotely resembling a theory as to who the caller could have been. He knew he had heard that voice before and the anxiety that had been nagging at him for the whole day was kicking though the roof.

He had seen and experienced worse, Dean reminded himself. He wasn’t going to let this drive him into a full on panic attack. He needed his strength and his concentration for the case, breaking down was probably exactly what that sick bastard wanted him to do. Dean kept telling himself that as he frantically sucked air into his lungs.

After a couple of minutes Dean felt like he was through the worst of it at least for now, but his knees still gave up under him and he slid down to the ground with his back pressed against the surface of his office door.


	3. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me way too long and I have this really bad feeling that this isn't the last time I am going to say it. I am such a slow writer. It is ridiculous.

Dean did take Linus home eventually, after he had calmed down and had let Linus into the office to take care of him. Even if this “taking care” had hardly consisted of more than helping Dean up from the ground and bringing him a coffee from the nearby Starbucks. Usually Dean wasn’t a fan of all this sugary stuff, but at that point he had felt like a sugar boost might do wonders. It hadn’t and he had been cranky for all of the next 5 hours they spent at the department, even if he tried not to show it.

It had been exhausting and stressful. They had pushed theories around and had some scratched of the board again already. Everyone had been tip-toeing around Dean and it had been even more frustrating and draining than the general procedures and the sorting out of information. Dean’s brain had been working non-stop and the suggestions the others had made hadn’t stopped it, either. They hadn’t been wrong, though, and that was basically the worst.

“If he knew Jo then maybe it is someone who knows Dean personally as well?”

“Then why doesn’t Dean have any clue to who the other women were?”

“Look, if it were something personal, he could have just called Dean at home but he chose to call the more or less public police landline. Why?”

“Exactly. And why now? He could have done this before, we had one set up for every murder."

"Maybe he just got bored because we didn't get any closer to him."

"If he wanted to be caught he wouldn't have waited to give us any kind of clue now, right?"

"And why would he only want to talk to Dean if it's a general desire?"

"Guys, can you shut up and stop talking about me as though I'm not in the room?"

And that was how Dean had ended up being send home by his colleagues, his inferiors, more specifically. The main problem he had with this was that they were people who theoretically had no power and no right to tell him what to do. Not like that, anyways.

But after Linus had offered he would take care of Dean getting home safe and sound, they had all agreed with each other that their boss needed some rest. Dean’s quiet protest mumbled under his breath had been ignored. The last thing he had told all of them as he had turned around at the exit one more time was that they should make sure they all got home as soon as possible and that he was going to let Linus off duty after he had brought him home. Meg’s slightly disheveled expression had been full of the implication that she knew exactly what that meant.

So now Dean just let Linus manhandle him through the door of his house. Despite the fact that Dean was obviously taller and stronger than Linus, the younger man had no problem at all after Dean had just gone completely compliant under his touch. He could feel the heat radiating from Linus’ palms where there pressed into his lower back and his shoulder.

“Come on.” Linus whispered reassuringly and Dean just let go. He knew that Linus probably didn’t even register it as a sign of special trust but then Linus had never seen him anywhere else than at work or in of their bedrooms, safe the view times Dean had taken him to Harvelle’s Roadhouse because he knew it wasn’t frequented by the rest of the police department.

The thought of Jo hurt unexpectedly bad and Dean had to take in a view deep breaths to keep himself from panicking right here and now. Linus’ grip on him intensified and Dean felt a sudden rush of affection flood his body. It was another sign that showed how affected he actually way by today’s events and it also another sign that he effectively tried to ignore.

Dean turned around and grabbed a handful of Linus’ shirt before he straightened up and leaned over Linus to press a kiss to his lips into which Linus all but melted. Dean pushed into the kiss, bracing his hands against Linus shoulders for leverage as he suckled at his lower lips, determined to leave it bruised. Linus let out a small sigh and parted his lips willingly at the first trace of Dean’s tongue against them.

“Want me to keep your mind off of things?” Linus asked after he had pulled away to catch his breath, mouth still close enough for Dean to feel every little puff of air ghost over his own, reddened lips.

“Yeah” Dean breathed out, voice almost cracking on the single, easy syllable. Dean was a wreck right now and he knew it, although he would never admit it. The way he clung to Linus said it all for him and Linus had enough empathy to pick up on it without saying anything.

“Okay, come on, then.” He said, leading Dean to his bedroom without as much as a blink.

Dean could still remember the first times they had done this, when Linus had stood awkwardly around like a piece of furniture to be placed where Dean had wanted him to. That had been 13 months ago and Linus had grown so much since then. He had become so much more confident with himself and his own needs and desires. It had shown at work, too. Linus wasn’t the shy new guy anymore, he was a full member of the team, efficient and respected.

Dean was weirdly out of it but aware of every little move at the same time as Linus guided him up the stairs. If Linus hadn’t promised it a minute ago, Dean would not have been able to tell that he was actually planning on having sex with him tonight. There was gentleness to his touches in a way that Dean still didn’t think he deserved.  
Linus pushed Dean down onto the bed and directly began with shoving off his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt.

“You know, you should definitely wear suits more often. Like last time. You look hot in them” He said matter-of-factly while he was occupied with tracing Dean’s collarbones with his fingers.

“Yeah, right” Dean replied with a humorless chuckle. “I’m not the fucking FBI. It’s not my fault I was called away from dinner with Sam.”

“Your brother Sam?”

“Yeah, how many Sams do I know?”

Linus shot him a pointed look and Dean chuckled.

“On your belly” Linus instructed Dean after he had peeled the last bit of fabric off of Dean’s upper body and gotten rid of his belt. Dean shivered under the attention he got.  
“What are you planning?” Dean asked warily and resisted the urge to shy away. He trusted Linus, he really did but that didn’t mean that he was comfortable with turning his back to him. He wasn’t even sure if he would ever be able to do anything like that, especially in a sexual situation like right now.

“Relax” Linus told him and Dean was certain that Linus had sensed his discomfort. He always did. After all it had been Linus who had pushed Dean enough to finally tell him why he shied away at any small hint of Linus trying to alternate their sex life and be the one topping. Just for once. Linus had never attempted it ever again. So yes, Dean was a bit distrusting but if it hurt Linus, he didn’t show it.

“I just want to give you a back massage, you look like you need one.”

Dean just slumped back against the bed. His muscles were still hard as stone but the mental tension left his body all at once and he was left weakened and worn out as the adrenalin wore off for good this time.

At the border off his consciousness he could feel his worries nagging at him, in that moment centering around the question whether he was ever going to meet Linus with the trust he deserved. Would Dean ever stop secretly assuming that Linus was just waiting for the right opportunity to break down his walls to push him over his limits? His ex-boyfriend probably would have done it, not Linus.

God, it had been four years and Dean could still remember the way they used to wake up next to each other. Sometimes, he still imagined that he could smell him in his own old AC/DC t-shirts and the sheets on his bed.

“Hey, snap out of it” Dean could hear a quiet voice next to his ear and it took him a moment to register it as Linus’. He was so goddamn close that Dean could smell the faint traces of his aftershave on his skin.

Dean smiled and raised one of his hands to cup Linus’ cheek. There were only a few inches between then as Linus leaned in. His eyes were closed and his lips slightly parted. It wasn’t hard to see that he was waiting for a kiss. A kiss that never came.

Dean pulled away and turned around, slowly lying down. He buried his face in his pillow and sighed as he heard Linus shuffle above him. If he was disappointed he didn’t show it but then again Dean couldn’t see his face. He didn’t want to see it either. It was just so much easier to look away.

Linus sat down on Dean’s upper thighs and placed his hands on Dean’s back. His palms were warm and soft on Dean’s skin as he started to rub gentle circles into it.  
“You need to relax” Linus said softly.

“I’m trying” Dean mumbled but even he could feel his muscles twitching and jumping as Linus ran his knuckles over them. He let out a moan as he slowly but surely relaxed into Linus’ touches. He let his mind wander to happier places, or at least he tried. There weren’t a lot of good things happening in his life. One of his best friends was probably dying right now and work was going slow, way too slow. The only thing really working in his life seemed to be his brother’s career as a lawyer.

The sudden awareness that he hadn’t called his little brother for over two months now hut him unexpectedly. He had been so absorbed in the case that didn’t want to allow them even the tiniest of motions forward, that he had completely missed out on the little bit of social life he actually had.

“Stop thinking about work” Linus’ mouth was close to Dean’s ear, his hot breath ghosting against the shell. Dean shivered and let out another quiet moan.  
“How…how did you know I was?”

“You tensed up again”

“Oh, just shut up and continue the massage” Dean growled. “Please” He added as an afterthought.

Linus sighed and did as he was told. The movements of his hands were paired with soft kisses to Dean’s back and neck that got more and more the longer he worked his palms over the tense muscles.

There was an honest ‘I’m sorry’ on the tip of Dean’s tongue but he didn’t say it. Instead he preferred to pretend he hadn’t heard Linus. They fell into an uncomfortable silence, the air between them tense and… Dean didn’t even know how to describe it. He just knew that he didn’t like it.

Dean felt a bit like a little kid that was too afraid to speak up for himself in fear that the adults would deny him whatever it was that he wanted. Of course this was ridiculous, especially since Linus would probably do anything Dean would ask him for. Anything appropriate, at least. Which was probably a good thing because Dean didn’t trust himself enough to say he wouldn’t treat him wrong if Linus let him.

Dean huffed, chasing away the dark thoughts. It seemed to become a regular thing with him and he had already enough experience to at least make it seem as though he didn’t care.

Despite his train of thoughts that just didn’t want to stop, Linus’ hands did wonder to Dean’s tensed up muscles. Dean felt all warm and comforted inside and his skin buzzed where he could still feel the rub and press of Linus’ palms.

Linus shifted above him, re-seating himself and Dean could feel the press of his half-hard cock against the small of his back as Linus sat down again. He was okay with it, though. It was all okay, as long as Dean could feel the peaceful aura that radiated from Linus. There was a reason the younger man was usually around when it was important to cool down conflicts.

Still, it was a feeling that Dean wasn’t used to, not anymore. It felt a bit like giving up the reigns of the situation to Linus by letting him press him into the mattress with his weight. Linus could do anything right now. Dean was probably just paranoid. No, he knew he definitely was but there was nothing he could do about it.

It was a cold that crept up at the back of his neck every time he came even remotely close to handing over control. His brother had once said that Dean acted like someone with a PTSD but Dean had flipped him off and told him to stick it where the sun doesn’t shine. That assumption was ridiculous and untrue. He’d just made bad experiences, that was all.

He felt a muscle in his shoulder plop back into its position or maybe it was his spine. To be honest, Dean didn’t want to know what Linus was doing to his body in too great detail.

When Linus finally pulled back after a last tender kiss right behind Dean’s ear, Dean felt light-headed and dizzy. Judging by the way Linus’ cock pressed against his lower back, Dean had apparently made more noises than he had been aware of.

Linus climbed off of him a bit awkwardly and Dean turned around at the first given opportunity to reach for him and pull him down into a reassuring embrace. The low grumble of his stomach betrayed him, though. Linus laughed, cheeks flushed and eyes filled with something more than just attraction. There was a sparkle in them that Dean couldn’t quite categorize. He wasn’t quite sure if it frightened him or not but he decided to push it away.

"Hungry?" Linus chuckled under his breath and it put Dean at a complete ease again.

"Starving" He admitted. He hadn't even realized how drained his body was and how much he was graving energy and food right now. One day he really needed to tell Linus that his hands were a gift from the Gods. Not now, though. Now that he had noticed his hunger getting food into his stomach was his first priority.

He knew how to deal with being hungry, had experienced it often enough during his childhood, but not when he knew exactly that his fridge was filled with food.

How they made it into the kitchen without jumping and devouring each other was a miracle to Dean, especially considering the looks Linus gave him and that Dean only noticed in the corner of his eyes. It was unsettling and reassuring at the same time, two feelings that Dean would have never thought of ever occurring simultaneously. Yet here he was.  
If there was one thing Dean had learned about Linus it was how much he could keep himself back even if he wanted something really badly. When he could he was an emotional person and open in showing his affection. Nevertheless he had something like a special sense for knowing exactly when to act which way and perhaps even more important when to just not do anything at all. There was not a lot that was more relaxing than spending time alone with Linus (but only of Dean would allow himself to be relaxed which happened less often than Dean was willing to admit).

When they arrived in the kitchen, Linus’ attention was drawn away from Dean faster than Dean would have liked but he would be able to get over it for the sake of checking the curve of Linus’ ass as he bent over to get a better look into the fridge.

“Do you actually have anything even close to healthy in your fridge?” Linus asked and Dean could picture the way he probably raised an eyebrow right now.  
“Shut up, I don’t eat rabbit food.”

“Yeah right” Linus just sighed and took out a box of eggs, placing it on the counter. “Since I am not eating leftover burgers from the take-away I am going to make omelets now.” He announced and Dean was happy with just grunting in affirmation.

Dean let himself fall down in one of the chairs, watching Linus scoop around in his kitchen, getting out bowls and a frying pan. Dean would love to be able to say that he just kept admiring Linus’ backside but his thoughts drifted away far too soon for him to even claim a serious attempt.

There had just been too much going on and his mind was drawn back to the strange phone call and the question if it had really been the killer they were hunting. The feeling in Dean’s gut told him yes and he had learned to trust his feelings. However, he just couldn’t wrap his head around any reason why the guy had started what seemed like a personal attack now.

Dean didn’t want to think about it and he honestly didn’t have the strength to think about it. It physically hurt him to come back to these thoughts. It meant he put people in danger, not only but foremost people that he loved. People had probably gotten hurt and killed because of him.

He let his head fall into his hands and groaned.

“Shut up, you know you love my omelets” Linus replied, not looking at Dean but preparing the food. Dean was just grateful that just this time he wasn’t expected to explain anything.

 

Later that night they ended up as a tangled mess on the bed, Dean on his back and Linus over him, skin on skin, glistening with sweat. Linus let out a deep, guttural moan as he sank down onto Dean’s cock again after adjusting his position. Neither of them had come yet but it didn’t feel like a pressing matter now that they were close. Linus leaned forward, bringing his chest flush against Dean’s. He slowly lied down on Dean, carefully avoiding letting Dean’s dick slip out of him again. Linus clenched around him as he shifted his legs into a wider V-shape and Dean’s hips bucked up involuntarily. He probably would have thrown Linus off of him if he had still been in the upright position he had been in earlier, riding Dean with a determination to it that had almost scared Dean. But he had tried too hard and Dean had told him to relax which was how they had gotten into the position they were in now.

Linus placed his elbows next to Dean’s neck and buried his fingers in the strands of Dean’s hair. His breath whispered over Dean’s lips as he leaned in even closer. Dean sighed. It was a good feeling, all warm and content, letting him forget.

His hands that had previously been holding Linus by his hips flattened out, roaming over Linus’ back. The sweet, loving caresses were the only way Dean dared to express any of his feelings for Linus.

Before Dean really knew what was happening they were kissing, slow and tender and for the first time since hours. Linus melted in Dean’s arms. He shivered and his breath hitched. A wave of pure want rolled over Dean at the high-keened, happy noise Linus made into his mouth.

“God” Dean mumbled against Linus’ lips. “You’ve got no idea how amazing you are. I want you so much.”

“You have me” Linus replied with all the sincerity he could gather between his panted out breaths. Then he started to wriggle his hips and all capacity of thinking straight flew right out of Dean’s brain. He pressed Linus’ close to him with his right palm on Linus’ upper back, finger spread wide over smooth skin, shoulder blades and strong muscles. His other hand wandered down Linus’ spine, fingers slipping into the crease of his ass.

This time it was Linus’ turn to make an uncontrolled movement with his hips. It drove him even further down on Dean’s cock. He gasped for air and started rutting against Dean again, frantic, messy movements that left them both breathless.

In this moment Dean was absolutely careless. His skin burned pleasantly everywhere they touched and Dean felt the heaviness of his mind bleeding out of his body through the contact of skin on skin. If Dean had ever had come even close do calling sex ‘making love’ this moment was it. Without even talking about it the main purpose had long ago shifted from getting off to just being close.

Linus made a strangled noise as Dean pushed up into his lazy downward movement and probably hit right against his prostate from the sound of it and the way Linus tensed and clenched around Dean.

“Oh God” Dean wasn’t even sure if he or Linus had said this but it hardly mattered as Linus’ hands tightened in Dean’s short hair that was not long enough to really tug at it but Linus’ fingernails scraped over his skull drawing a full-body shudder out of Dean.

Dean felt his cock throbbing for the few seconds that Linus stopped his movements to steal another long, lingering kiss from Dean’s lips.  
“Oh come on, now you’re just teasing” Dean complained when they pulled away.

From there it didn’t take long for Linus to get completely ragged, the desperate shoves of his hips getting frantic and fast again. The rhythm was a bit off as Dean tried his best to meet Linus on every thrust but it was pretty obvious that Linus was completely okay with taking the reign this time. Dean was more than happy to give them over.  
Dean wrapped his right hand around Linus’ cock as he felt a familiar heat curl up in his lower belly and make him tense up. He hadn’t realized how far gone Linus had already been himself until he came with a hoarse cry after only a few strokes and tugs, messily adjusted to Linus’ fast rhythm.

Linus arched up, his back a perfect bow that a ballet-dancer might have been jealous of and clenched around Dean who was still buried inside of him. Two more thrusts on Dean’s part were all it took for him to follow right behind Linus. He groaned, sound pressing out between clenched teeth and closed his eyes.

Afterwards they just lay there, exhausted and loose-limbed. Linus had just collapsed on Dean, probably more from the strains of the day than the sex they just had had but Dean welcomed the warmth of his body either way. There was something comforting in knowing that he was able to just dump everything onto someone else and this person wouldn’t complain, wouldn’t turn away or scream in his face because he was such a fuck-up. If it was fair to do this to Linus was a completely different question that Dean neither wanted nor could answer right now. He wasn’t even sure if there would ever come the time where he would come close to it.

Dean gently rolled Linus off of himself a couple of minutes later despite Linus’ mumbled protest to get up, get rid of the condom and grab the first bit of fabric he could get a hand on, which conveniently was his own shirt. When he looked over to the bed Linus had his eyes fixed on him, blessed out expression on his face but the look he gave him was hiding something deeper, darker beneath it. Dean just couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

And wasn’t this how it always went? Wasn’t this what was just the fucking messed-up problem with Linus? That Dean could always sense when something wasn’t quite right but he could never tell what so he just kept pushing it aside, afraid the answer might challenge him with an even bigger problem.

Dean staggered back to the bed, swaying on his feet as he did his best to wipe Linus’ come off of his belly before crawling up next to the younger man and doing the same for him. Through the whole process Linus just looked at him with that unreadable expression on his face. For all the intimacy they shared with each other, Dean still felt like there was a barrier between them and he knew exactly that he himself was the one creating it. It was his fault that they weren't in a real relationship because he was too fucking afraid of the commitment. It was his fault that Linus felt rejected whenever he tried to come up with something new because Dean was too paranoid to let him do anything to him that Dean hadn't thought about for himself before or had at least had enough time to wrap his head around it.

Why did Dean even care so much? They were just sleeping with each other and they had both made it really clear that they didn't expect anything more out of it than the comfort of not having to spend their nights alone.

Dean tossed the now dirty shirt away. He could take care of that tomorrow. Right now he just wanted to lay here, one hand wrapped loosely around Linus' waist who was still lying on his back while Dean had already rolled himself onto his belly, face pressed into the soft pillow. The fabric smelt of Linus and sex and it was soothing and terrifying at once how familiar this scent had become.

"We should probably still take a shower" Linus mumbled and Dean could hear that he too was already drifting away to sleep.

"Yeah. That's a good idea." Dean replied, voice soft around the edges and syllables smudged with each other. When Dean turned his head towards Linus his eyes had already closed and his breath evened out.

 

The next morning Dean was the first one to wake up. He felt something warm press up against him and when he opened one eye carefully he was greeted by a face full of Linus' hair and although the man snuggled up to him back against chest smelled like Linus and felt like Linus Dean's still sleep-dazzled brain made the connection to other memories. Memories that belonged to the past since years. So many months had gone by that Dean had lost track of the amount although he had sworn himself to never forget about the day he had lost the most precious thing that had ever been his. The worst thing about it was that he knew it had all been his fault. In his state of mind, still half asleep and dozy it wasn’t hard for his thought to drift away, nothing there to stop the memories from pushing to the surface.

_“I don’t understand what your problem is” Dean’s voice cut through the air like a sharp knife. It wasn’t their first time fighting but he was furious and he was pretty sure that nothing his boyfriend could possibly say would calm him down._   
_“No, Dean, I don’t understand what /your/ problem is. You’re practically working this case alone. You’re almost never home and I am not going to say that I miss you because I know how important your job is to you.”_   
_Dean just stared at him. Usually he was so beautiful but now his eyes were blown with rage and his face was distorted by anger._   
_“So this is about work!?” Dean was so tired of fighting, so tired of shouting but he was not going to give in. If he did he would never find out what was wrong._   
_“Not the way you think. I am just convinced that your promotion is long overdue and you should push for it. You should want it. You’re the best and still you despise the idea of being in charge and this makes me incredibly angry. Don’t you want to make a change?”_   
_“Why are we having this conversation?” Dean asked, voice weak and unsteady. He couldn’t believe they were actually fighting about this again._   
_“You know exactly why.” The words were spat out towards Dean, the hidden meaning behind them intended to hurt and worst thing was that they were true._   
_“Cas, I…”_   
_“Don’t you ‘Cas’ me and think it’s going to make everything better like some kind of miracle. And for the next time my name is Castiel.”_   
_He turned away and in the split second before his face was hidden from Dean’s gaze, Dean could see the hurt he had caused flicker over Castiel’s facial features._

Dean groaned and got up, trying not to wake Linus and apparently succeeded. Linus only made a displeased noise, rolled onto his other side and buried his face in Dean’s now empty pillow.

Dean felt sticky and gross and really regretted not showering yesterday but he had just fallen asleep. He was just grateful that he hadn’t woken up in the middle of the night. Taking a shower at 3 am would have definitely woken up Linus as well and Dean didn’t even want to think about the lack of sleep he would have gotten in that situation.

He picked up their scattered clothes on the way and threw them into the laundry bag when he arrived in the bathroom. Dean really needed to do some washing soon. Somehow it seemed to him that everything had gotten slightly out of order. His eating schedule, his cleaning schedule, his sleeping schedule. All of it. And if someone would ask Dean to pinpoint the exact moment this had started he would say it happened when Cas… God, he really needed to stop thinking about it.

The shower didn’t help at all. Yes, he felt cleaner afterwards but the awful feeling that seemed to have clung to his bones staid and not even jerking himself off with his face buried in his arm and his lips sucked between his teeth could help to ease the tension.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yes, this is the first mention of Cas, as I promised. I know it probably wasn't what you guys expected but you are in for pain, I am not one for cute HS AUs. I love reading them but I probably never write something that isn't angsty or dark as hell.


End file.
